A Mismatched Pair
by Dawnfire8
Summary: Ma'runjha is an antisocial thief looking for extra cash. Stella is a reckless girl who is just trying to figure out what is going on. What happens when these two teens with opposite personalities are forced together one day? With the rise of dragons and the discovery of an ancient power, they will embark on a journey to not only save the world, but to also understand themselves.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters from the Elder Scrolls series. Bethesda Studios does.

**A/N: **This story is a continuation of the one shot, Ragnar the Red, but you do not need to read it to understand this story. If you notice any typos or mistakes, feel free to leave a review about them.

* * *

Whiterun was a small but bustling city. Villagers strolled down the roads, shopping and chatting with their friends. Others wandered into the town square which was littered with stands that were more or less successful. Ysolda conned men into paying extra for her jewelry while Anoriath's ratty stand sold week-old meat to whoever was foolish enough to buy it. Meanwhile, the guards lounged on the steps of Dragonsreach, too drunk or lazy to stop the constant swindling. The day was as normal as it could be.

This peace was suddenly broken when a frantic villager ran through the square screaming about a stolen ring. The other villagers gave the man odd looks while the guards hardly batted an eye. Unknown to this unfortunate man, a young khajiit watched him from the shadows of an alley.

Ma'runjha held still as the man ran past him, his dark leather armor blending in almost perfectly with the wooden house he leaned against. The edges of his lips raised into a smile as he gazed down at the silver ruby ring he now held in his possession.

_Serves that fool right_, Ma'runjha snickered. _With the way he left his jewelry clinking in his pocket, he was begging to be robbed._

Once the man was out of sight, Ma'runjha slithered out of the alley. After a quick glance around for any witnesses, he melted into the crowds milling down the streets of Whiterun.

As he walked, Ma'runjha placed the ring on his finger and admired its beauty. The ring's gem sparkled in the sunlight. A fence would pay tons for a precious piece of jewelry like this one. He shoved the ring back into his pocket before anyone noticed it and grew suspicious, however unlikely that was.

That was one of the reasons why Ma'runjha came to Whiterun. Several people lived here, yet security was surprisingly lax. He knew the war was partly to blame since many of the city's guards had left to join both the Legion and the Stormcloaks, but he still suspected that bribery was the main cause. Either way, the guards' incompetence would benefit someone with a lifestyle like his.

Ma'runjha had spent most of his life alone. He only had himself to rely on. Sure there were some difficult times in his life where he was often forced to take risks, but he only saw them as opportunities to gain experience and refine his _skills_. Stealing was still a dangerous business, however, and he wanted to find less risky ways to get coin. He never knew when the guards might take their jobs seriously so he lingered in Whiterun to see if he could find any easier jobs. Unfortunately, no one in this town seemed very eager to hire, as they put it, a "dirty thieving cat."

Ma'runjha frowned and flicked his striped silver tail. If he was going to get some work, he would need to start looking where people might appreciate a man with his skills.

He soon found himself standing in front of a large building in the center of the town. He looked up at the sign hanging over the door. _Bannered Mare Inn_ it read in faded black letters.

He shrugged. He may as well start here. He might overhear the innkeepers' gossip and catch some news of work. He entered the inn.

Ma'runjha's eyebrows rose in surprise as he took in his surroundings. A few empty tables and a bard passed out by the fireplace? For an inn in the center of a populated city, this place was surprisingly quiet. Well, it would be quiet if he ignored the lunatic girl squawking to the innkeeper in the back.

He considered looking elsewhere. Unfortunately, beggars couldn't be choosers and he needed work and a place to sleep. He might as well take what he could get.

The young khajiit sighed inwardly and approached the two women. He heard the teenage redguard rambling about some headless horseman and how he nearly got her killed last night. Seriously, where are these people coming from?

The innkeeper placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's okay, Stel. It was probably the mead giving you those nightmares. Why don't you go get yourself a glass of water then get some more rest?"

The girl's eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. "I thought you said you didn't serve any wa-"

Ma'runjha rudely shoved her aside.

"Excuse me," he said politely to the innkeeper, ignoring the indignant cries of the girl sprawled out on the ground. "Do you know where I can find some work?"

The old innkeeper narrowed her eyes at him. She was obviously displeased with his interruption, not that Ma'runjha cared. "There isn't much work around here these days," she replied curtly, "but you can check with the Companions down by Jorrvaskr."

The khajiit sighed in disappointment. Oh well. He could always move to Falkreath and search there. He was about to leave the inn when a burly gray-haired nord tromped up to him. The man studied him with an inscrutable expression on his wrinkled face. Ma'runjha took a step away from the old nord.

"Back off, geezer. Can't you see I'm busy?" The khajiit hissed at the man's chest, which was eye level with his face. That beady stare was making him feel exposed and Ma'runjha strongly despised exposure. He wrinkled his nose as an acrid smell wafted towards him and he took another step back. The man stunk of soot too.

The man only chuckled at his unease and crossed his large grizzly arms. "I overheard you asking about work. I think I have something for you to do." The man smiled when he saw Ma'runjha's sapphire blue eyes light up with interest. "A group of bandits stole one of my swords a little while ago. I finally managed to locate them at their base in Fort Greymoor, but I'm too busy with my work to retrieve the sword. I'll pay you _generously_ if you retrieve it for me."

Ma'runjha's smirk grew into a toothy grin. Things were finally looking up for him.

* * *

Ma'runjha hid in the tall grass growing on the outskirts of the old fort. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon and he knew he would have to make his move soon. He would have waited until night fell to attack the fort, but he didn't want to risk the old man growing impatient and hiring someone else to fetch his sword.

Ma'runjha took this moment to check his gear one last time. His gloved hands stroked the hunting bow that he had 'borrowed' from a terrified hunter on his way here. A bow would help him remove stray bandits without being spotted. He then counted the daggers lining his waist for the third time today. There was no harm in making sure that neither of his precious daggers was out of place or missing.

He tore his eyes away from the daggers and inspected the fort for possible points of entry. He prefered to take out his enemies silently and from a distance if possible. Therefore, he would need to find the most discreet way of getting into the fort. This method would save him time and lower the risk of injury. These were the kinds of things he worried about when he traversed Skyrim's harsh lands solo.

Some signs of neglect were immediately obvious upon first glance. The fort had originally belonged to Imperial soldiers before it was abandoned and taken over by bandits. As the fort was fought over and claimed by different groups of bandits, the stone walls slowly deteriorated until only half of the fort remained. One side of the fort had eroded to the point that the bandits were eventually forced to replace it with a log barrier. The walls that were still intact were lined with bandits keeping an eye out for trespassers.

Ma'runjha cursed silently. He had never been a fan of forts. Why did the Empire build these forts only to abandon them once they began to fall apart so that hordes of bandits could infest the neglected buildings like the rats they are? Seemed like a waste of resources if you asked him.

He spotted an open gateway at the front of the fort. The guards stationed by the entrance meant that he would have to find a different route. He examined the log fence. He could remove the one sentry guarding the barrier since the bandits were obviously too stupid to notice the obvious weak spot. Then he could sneak into the fort, take out a few bandits, and grab the sword before the remaining ones found the bodies. There was still one problem. Where was the sword? It looked like he would have to wait until he was inside the fort to locate it.

Ma'runjha removed the pair of orcish daggers from their sheaths and gripped them tightly. He slowly crept towards the fort until he was hidden behind a pile of crumbled stone. Once the sentry's back was turned, Ma'runjha barrel-rolled so that he was hidden beneath the bandit's post. The bandit hummed to himself happily, oblivious to the danger hidden beneath his feet. Ma'runjha smirked. He never saw it coming.

Ma'runjha climbed back into the post once he had finished removing the body. He crouched down and quickly surveyed his surroundings. There were a few bandits wandering around, but it looked like the majority of the bandits were still out marauding elsewhere. That meant there would be fewer bandits he'd have to fight then.

Ma'runjha creeped down the steps of the sentry's post and dove behind a stack of hay. Once the coast was clear, he slunk towards a shed with a shabby roof.

"What was that?"

Ma'runjha froze. He hadn't noticed the bandit standing on the other side of the shed. He heard a sword being drawn. His heart climbed into his chest as the bandit began to stalk around the side of the shed.

There was a clinking sound, like an arrow hitting wood, and the bandit turned away.

"Over there!" All of the bandits rushed to the other end of the fort with their weapons drawn.

Ma'runjha let out a sigh of relief and crept towards the shed. Whatever caused the noise was of no concern to him. He only came for the sword.

When he entered the shed, he discovered that it only contained a shelf with a few health and stamina potions. He gathered the potions and shoved them into his pocket before heading back out.

The commotion that had distracted the bandits earlier had grown into a cacophony of screams and battle cries. Ma'runjha was greatly tempted to glance in the direction of the cries, however, he resisted the urge as he could not afford a distraction for even a second.

At that moment, Ma'runjha spotted a shiny steel greatsword sitting on a table beside a staircase leading up to the second level of the fort.

_That must be the sword he was talking about_, Ma'runjha surmised.

With one last glance around, Ma'runjha made a mad dash for the sword and reached out to grab it.

"Got it," he and a female voice said in sync. He stared down at the sword which now had two pairs of hands wrapped around it. He looked up and felt a scowl mar his face.

Beside him stood a girl about his age who wore slightly torn leather armor. She had a worn bow slung over her shoulder and a rusty sword dangled from her belt. Strands of curly black hair poked out from beneath the purple hood that obscured most of her face from view. It didn't make a difference, though. He saw enough to recognize her.

"What are you doing here, redguard?" Ma'runjha hissed at the girl he had pushed at the inn. The girl stood there and stared at him with wide brown eyes.

"Well?" He demanded sharply, causing the girl to flinch.

"I came here to get the sword," she answered quietly, backing away from the angry cat without releasing her firm hold on the sword.

"In case you haven't noticed, the old man asked me to get his sword and I got here first! Let go of the sword, you pathetic weakling."

"Actually, he was asking both of us to find the sword. Not like you would notice with that bloated ego of yours," she retorted.

Ma'runjha felt like he had taken a punch to the face. "Why you little bug! If I weren't in the middle of this dump, I would snap your neck right here for insulting me like that..." He trailed off when he realized that she wasn't paying attention to a single thing he was saying. Instead, she was staring past him with her mouth agape. Ma'runjha felt himself cringe when he heard someone clear his voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see that the bandits had returned and were glaring at him viciously. When he turned back to the table, he realized that the sword was no longer in his grasp and that the redguard girl was climbing over the log barrier.

"Bye-uh!" She waved at him before disappearing over the side of the fence.

Ma'runjha turned back to the group of disgruntled bandits and gulped. Just his luck.

_30 minutes later..._

Ma'runjha was going to kill that girl as soon as he tracked her down. First, she steals the sword right under his nose then she leaves him with a fort-full of bandits to fight off. He rubbed his bruised eye where a bandit had punched him. Oh yes, he was going to kill her.

He limped through the streets of Whiterun. A few of the citizens glanced at the injured khajiit, but immediately scurried away as soon as they saw the look of death in his eyes. When Ma'runjha finally reached the marketplace in the center of Whiterun, he spotted the infuriating redguard dragging the sword into the inn. The fur along his back bristled.

"Hey," he roared at the girl. "Don't think I will let you get away with that, you cheating fool!"

Ysolda and a few others closing up their shops glanced at him in horror then ran away with their day's earnings. The redguard's tilted her head in confusion then screamed in sheer terror as the enraged khajiit charged towards her with an animalistic roar. She turned around and attempted to hurry through the door of the inn, but the khajiit caught up with her. He launched himself at her and the two went tumbling into the inn. They landed in a pile in front of the fireplace with Ma'runjha pinning the girl to the ground. She let out another scream and grabbed his wrists when the khajiit unsheathed his curved claws and attempted to tear her eyes out. Fortunately for her, a pair of strong arms lifted him off of her before he could land a blow.

"Hold on, you two. If you kill each other, how am I going to reward you?" the old man asked while holding Ma'runjha in a headlock.

The two teens looked up at him in confusion. "I brought back the sword," the redguard said before Ma'runjha could reply. "Shouldn't I be the one who gets the reward?"

The nord laughed. "I was going to reward both of you anyway. I was just testing you to see how well you would handle a quest. I'd like to say that you two handled it better than I expected, except for when you tried to kill each other, but that can be ignored."

Now they were even more confused as they stared at the laughing man in front of him. What was this man talking about?

"My name is Eorlund Gray-Mane. I work at the Skyforge just north of Jorrvaskr. I saw the two of you and thought that you would make some great warriors with some training, of course. How would you like to join the Companions?"

"Who are the Companions?" the redguard asked, ignoring the glare Ma'runjha shot her.

"The Companions are a group of warriors who live inside Jorrvaskr," Eorlund answered with a small smile at the girl's curiosity. "You'll learn some more about them once you join." With that, Eorlund started walking towards the door with Ma'runjha still in his arms.

"Wait!" the khajiit yelled, flailing in his arms. "I never said I was going to join."

Eorlund frowned. "If you'd rather stay here and dig through other people's pockets, then be my guest. Just don't be surprised when you find yourself in a jail cell one day."

_Ouch. I guess my sneaking skills aren't as good as I thought they were._

Taking his silence as an answer of resignation, Eorlund shrugged and walked out of the inn with Ma'runjha slung over his shoulder and the excited redguard bounding after them.

The three entered a building that looked like an overturned boat. The inside of the boat looked like a mead hall. There were bottles of mead and strips of venison strewn across a long table with a few men passed out in their chairs. A crowd of people stood in the corner of the hall, cheering on two warriors who were locked in a fist fight. The only person in the room who didn't appear to be inebriated was an old woman sweeping up the mess the warriors had left behind. She kept shooting the crowd scolding yet motherly looks while she tidied the room.

_I wonder why none of this surprises me_, Ma'runjha thought sarcastically. He frowned at the redguard girl who looked around the mead hall in awe. _Great. She's still here._

"Welcome to Jorrvaskr," Eorlund said, putting Ma'runjha down. "Go down those steps and look for a man named Kodlak Whitemane. He's the Harbinger of the Companions and will decide whether or not you will be allowed to join. If you need anything, you can find me at the skyforge."

Ma'runjha glared at the nord as he marched out of the mead hall, leaving the two young adventurers alone. Why do so many people in Skyrim drag him out to some unknown place only to leave him to fend for himself when he needed them most? So unreliable.

The redguard shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I'm joining these guys. I could use some training." She walked towards the steps on the other side of the mead hall.

Ma'runjha continued to stand by the door and watched as the girl disappeared down the steps. Strange how his day went downhill so abruptly. He started out looking for work, then he was attacked by bandits, and now he finds himself joining a group of mercenaries. He could always turn around and walk out the door. Now that Eorlund was gone, no one was here to stop him. The girl had a point though. Both of them were in need of training, especially after seeing how those bandits had nearly ripped him to shreds. He may be an expert when it comes to sneaking, but he wouldn't survive if he was ever forced to face his opponents without the aid of surprise. These mercenaries knew much about that style of fighting, judging from the way the two brawling warriors had pulled out battle axes and were now swinging at each other. They could teach him a thing or two.

Ma'runjha finally reached a decision. He would join the Companions and stay until he had learned enough to defend himself. Then he would leave in the dead of the night with all of their valuable possessions. Of course, that would happen after he got revenge on that girl for nearly getting him killed.

He smirked as plans formulated in his mind and he followed the unknowing girl down the steps.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this chapter, except for the ones I created.

**A/N:**The formatting for the first chapter was messed up when I uploaded it, but I went back and corrected it. If you find any issues with this chapter, feel free to write an angry review. Enjoy!

* * *

Stella padded down the steps into a corridor beneath the mead hall. The corridor was lined with what she assumed to be the Companions' bedrooms. No one else was down here except for a man laying face down on the carpeted floor. Stella gingerly stepped around the unconscious man and continued down the corridor. Her ears picked up the sound of two voices on the other side of one of the doors and she stopped before it. Stella cracked the door open and peered inside.

Two men sat at a small table and spoke quietly to each other. The older man was a nord with a thick white beard and dull golden armor. The other man had jet black hair and steel armor. The war paint ringing his eyes emphasized his serious expression. Stella leaned closer to pick up what they were saying.

"It looks like we have company," the younger man suddenly said, glancing at the door.

Stella jumped in surprise. She had been as quiet as she could manage. Her sneaking was good enough that most people wouldn't have been able to hear her. The man's training must have improved his awareness.

"Come in," called the old nord's voice.

Stella pushed the door open and warily stepped into the room. The two men studied her for an eternity - or five seconds - before the old man nodded in approval.

"What brings you here, young lady?" He asked.

Stella mustered her courage and answered him confidently. "I want to join the Companions. Eorlund told me to look for a Kodlak Whitemane."

"You are speaking to him. Come. Take a seat." He pulled out a chair and motioned for Stella to sit down. "Why do you wish to join the Companions?"

"Eorlund told me that I needed training. He said that this would be the best place to look for it."

"And what would a young lass like you do with this training?"

Stella thought for a moment and decided it was a trick question. "I would use it to fight, of course."

Kodlak laughed heartily as if Stella had been joking. "I see that we have a young warrior here." He turned to the other man who had been silently observing the conversation. "Vilkas, why don't you take this girl and her friend out to the courtyard and test their arms to see if they have what it takes to train with the Companions?"

Stella looked over her shoulder and flinched at the sight of the scary catman standing right behind her. She could tell that he was scowling despite the layer of gray fur covering his face. In fact, the edges of his lips were so low that she could see the edges of his sharp incisors. His lightning blue eyes narrowed as they settled on Stella's bewildered face. She was about to ask him how long he had been standing there when Vilkas grabbed her arm and lead her to the courtyard.

"This is the courtyard," Vilkas said boredly as they stepped into an area behind the mead hall. "This is where you young warriors will prove your strength and stuff like that."

He led them to a rack of weapons placed beside a row of slightly mutilated dummies.

Stella stared at the dummies skeptically. "You want me to spar against those?"

"Normally I would have initiates spar against me. Since there are two of you, however, you will fight against each other."

Stella glanced at the catman who smirked at her maliciously. That look would have sent her running for the hills any other day, but the excitement filling her body caused her to return a smirk of her own. "Very well. I can take him. What are the rules?"

"No biting, no cheating, and no severed limbs," Vilkas listed. "I'm not cleaning up after you two."

Stella nodded and studied the swords on the rack. For a girl her age, Stella was surprisingly skilled with swords. Her mother knew much about several different styles of fighting and had taught her and her twin sisters most of what they knew about combat. The swords they used in Skyrim were very different from what she was used to, but she could still tell a good sword from an old one. She grabbed the shiny iron sword that immediately caught her eye. It was light and quick. Just the way she liked. She watched as the catman picked his own blade and walked back to where she and Vilkas stood.

Stella analyzed her opponent while Vilkas started the countdown. Catman held the sword a bit too low since he wasn't used to its weight. It was just as Stella had expected. He seemed like the type that prefered small daggers over heavy greatswords. Stella refrained from smirking at his obvious weakness. He would be slow and clumsy while Stella ran circles around him.

As soon as Vilkas shouted for the match to begin, Catman lunged forward with his greatsword poised to strike.

_Ah ha,_ Stella thought. _Going for the knock-Stella-out-before-she-has-a-chance-to-react technique. Very wise_. Unfortunately, her two older sisters always pulled that trick on her during their sparring matches so she was expecting it.

Stella leapt straight forward and dove between his legs, giving him a good kick behind the knees as he passed over her. Catman stumbled forward, leaving himself open to Stella's strike. He hissed when her sword nipped his back.

"Don't worry," Stella taunted. "I'm sure your back will be fine by next fall."

Vilkas sighed at the lame joke.

Catman sneered at her. "Are you too much of a girl to face me head on?"

Stella scoffed. "Last time I checked, you were the one who was losing. How does it feel to be beaten by a girl?"

He didn't look too pleased. "That was just a fluke. I could beat you any day."

"Didn't I get the sword first?"

"That's because you stole it from me! You left me in the middle of that fort to face all those bandits by myself. They almost killed me."

"Really? I guess you really do need to work on your fighting skills."

Stella wasn't sure why his face looked so red or why he let out a roar that would have put a lion to shame. She guessed that it was jealousy, but she never got the chance to ask as she suddenly found herself crushed beneath an infuriated Catman.

She let out a cry of pain when his claws dug into her arms. "Hey, you're cheating! You're not supposed to use your claws."

"I will rip you to pieces, you blubbering fool!"

Stella's eyes widened. Desperate not to lose her arms, she released her sword so she could pinch his nose. Catman let out a howl of pain and leapt off of her. She managed to scramble to her feet and tackle Catman while he was still cursing.

"You two are pretty skilled when it comes to catfights," Vilkas said after a few minutes of watching them maul each other, earning him two glares from the cloud of dust and torn hair rolling across the ground. "You need to work on your sense of humor though."

Vilkas frowned when their screeches became a little too violent. He carefully reached forward and pulled the two teens apart. Stella's hair was tangled and a bit thin in some spots, but the khajiit wasn't in any better condition. Vilkas frowned at the teeth marks lining his ears.

"I thought I said no biting," he snapped at Stella.

Stella shrugged without any signs of remorse. "I guess I got a little carried away."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "I can see why Eorlund thought you two needed training."

Catman spat on the ground. "Are we a part of the club or not?"

Vilkas nodded after a moment's consideration. "It's not like I have any choice. What are your names?"

"I'm Stella and this is Catman," Stella answered jovially.

"My name is Ma'runjha, you fool."

"Catman sounds way better. You should consider changing your name to that."

"Why you-"

The sound of swinging doors caught their attention and they raced back into the mead hall to catch up with Vilkas.

Vilkas led them into the basement and stopped before one of the bedrooms. He opened the door and there stood a man and a woman. The woman had chestnut brown hair and face paint that looked like three claw marks stretching across her face. The other man would look identical to Vilkas if he had a little less facial hair.

"These are the new recruits I've been hearing about?" the woman asked, staring at Stella curiously. "What is your name, shield-sister?"

"Stella," she answered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Aela and this meathead right here is Farkas." She nudged said man with her elbow and laughed.

"Where are you two whelps from?" Farkas asked.

"I'm not from here," Stella explained. "I woke up in a place called Helgen where some guy with an axe tried to chop my head off."

Farkas blinked at her. "Fascinating…" He turned to Catman. "What about you?"

"That's none of your business," Catman replied curtly.

"Um…"

"I call the girl," Aela suddenly announced.

Farkas gaped at her. "I wanted the girl! Why do you always get to train the girls?"

Her eyes flashed. "So she may grow into a huntress like me. How else is she going to keep you men in line?"

Stella wasn't quite sure what Aela was talking about, but she did admire the warrior's assertiveness.

"Would you mind showing these two to their rooms?" Vilkas cut in. "I would like to return to my life within the next century."

"Sure," Aela said, rolling her eyes. "Have fun dwelling on your regrets."

"I will," Vilkas deadpanned and left the room.

"Wait for me," Farkas called, following his brother to escape the Catman's cool stare.

"Follow me," Aela said to the new recruits. "I will show you to your quarters."

Stella nodded her head obediently and skipped after the warrior. Catman sniffed at her enthusiasm and followed more calmly.

Aela led them to a different room and pushed the door open. Stella shuddered. The room had a very unwelcome vibe. A dark elf sneered at them from his seat at the other side of the room and a drunken man was sprawled across his bed.

"What're ye lookin' at?" he slurred and swung his empty wine bottle at her.

Stella glanced at Aela who shook her head in disappointment. "Let's find you two a different room," the warrior stated. She shut the door and led them to the room across the hall.

"How do you like this one?" she asked, opening the door.

This room was smaller than the other one, but it was tidy and looked unoccupied. Two beds were placed on opposite ends of the room and had a small chest beside them.

"I like it," Stella commented. "It smells nice too."

Aela smiled at her. "Great. This is where you will be sleeping."

"What about me?" Catman asked.

"You two will be sharing this room."

"What?"

"Why do you think there are two beds in here? One for you and one for her."

"No way. I am not sharing a room with _that_." He growled at Stella who promptly took a step back.

Aela laughed, causing them to jump. "I see that a little rivalry has formed between you two. Good. That will motivate you to improve even more so I suggest that you suck it up and do as you're told, cat boy."

Catman looked like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he plopped down on one of the beds with a sigh.

"When do we begin training?" He asked wearily.

"Tomorrow morning," Aela answered. "At dawn."

Stella stared at the warrior incredulously. "Isn't that a bit early?"

"No. Not if you want to become a Companion. Try to get some extra rest for tomorrow." Aela paused on her way out the door. "I nearly forgot. If you left your belongings elsewhere, feel free to bring them here. Also, Belethor's Goods sells plenty of supplies if you need anything."

"Okay," Stella replied as Aela left. "Thanks."

Stella turned back to Catman and studied him. She had never seen anyone like him before. Sure, Ralof had mentioned that there were several different races in Skyrim. She just never expected that cat people would be one of them. Skyrim was a strange place.

Catman finally noticed her stare and scowled at her. "Do you mind?"

Stella blushed. "Sorry. You just look like my neighbor's cat."

If looks could kill…

"Well," Stella said loudly. "I need to get my stuff from the inn. I think I will drop by Belethor's Goods on my way back. Do you want me to get anything?"

"..."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Stella walked out of the room. She could have sworn that she heard a lock clicking as she walked down the corridor.

It was a short walk to the Bannered Mare inn since it was just down the road from Jorrvaskr. Hulda smiled at Stella as she entered the inn.

"How did the initiation go?" The old innkeeper asked.

Stella grinned. "It was great! Aela said that she was going to train me."

Hulda nodded approvingly. "She is an expert with the bow. Perhaps she will teach you how to hunt so you can catch some deer for me."

They both laughed.

Stella ran up the steps to her old room. She reached beneath the bed and pulled out her small black backpack. She had found it in one of the carriages while she was escaping Helgen. Apparently, she was still wearing it when she went to bed the night before then.

She took one last look around the room before stepping out.

Hulda waved goodbye as she left the inn. "Good luck, Stella. Be careful out there. Remember the saying: a skeever in clothes is still one to loathe." Stella had no clue what that meant, but she nodded anyway.

Stella's next stop was Belethor's Goods. A bell rang over the door as Stella entered the store, alerting the clerk of the presence of a new customer.

"Everything's for sale," called a man as he walked up to the counter. "If I had a sister, I would sell her in an instant." The man's tanned skin, dark hair, and slightly elf-like features confused Stella a bit. She guessed that he was some kind of imperial-elf hybrid based on Ralof's description of the two races. Stella kept her eyes on his green jacket and plain white shirt to avoid staring at the creepy grin on his face.

"Do you have any equipment that would help someone training with the Companions?" Stella asked as her eyes decided that scanning the shelves would look much less suspicious than staring at his clothes. Belethor nodded and opened a cabinet beneath the counter. He removed a rolled up blanket and unraveled it on top of the counter. Inside the blanket was an assortment of different weapons, armor, and potions.

"The Companions occasionally offer bootcamps for rowdy children so I have just the package for you. This one contains three bottles of health potion, a bed roll, gloves, blah, blah blah blah..." Stella zoned out while Belethor listed the contents and only resurfaced early enough to catch the end of his monologue. "...and with the Companion's discount, the total cost will come out to be three thousand septims."

"Three thousand septims!" Stella exclaimed in horror. "I can't afford that. I only have four hundred septims."

Belethor waved his hand at her expression. "Don't worry. You can get your parents to pay for it."

Stella rubbed the back of her neck. "Actually, my parents aren't exactly around..."

Belethor gawked at her and Stella realized that she should have phrased her sentence differently. "They're on vacation, I mean. They're not dead or anything."

Belethor cleared his throat to give himself time to regain his composure. "In that case, I can just give you a few stamina potions."

Stella nodded sadly and gave him most of her money. She was going to need a job at this rate. She really hoped the Companions could find work for her. She stuffed the stamina potions into her bag and was heading towards the door when Belethor called her back.

"If you are in need of cash, I could find some work for a pretty young lady like you." He winked suggestively. Stella gave his wide grin a look of horror and shook her head furiously.

"Uhh, no thank you. I think I can manage on my own." She nearly fell on her face as she scrambled out the door as fast as she could.

"Do come back," Belethor said in a creepy singsong voice. With those words in mind, Stella vowed to never return to Belethor's Goods.


End file.
